Sunbeam Lair your protector's coming home

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The sky above was the same drab grey offering no breaks for the sun to shine through and thunder still boomed in the distance, faint but ever present and still snow continued to fall. A forlorn glance skyward was given, silver gaze reading the story that the bleak clouds told, at what the bitter winds whispered as he kept his pace through the snow blanketed Wilds: that the worst was yet to come. It was always calmest before the storm and Tonrar knew that he did not want to be caught out in it when it unleashed it’s full fury against these Wilds. The press to find a pack was a heavy pressure, nearly suffocating as it weighed him down. It tasted like desperation to Warpath who was not so proud to foolishly sacrifice himself for it. As it was, freezing to death did not sound particularly appealing. He shivered against the violent chill as it worked it’s way past his coarse, heavy winter coat where it seeped and nestled in the marrow of his bones. No, he did not wish to weather mother nature’s unleashed fury alone. It was not how they were meant to be, social creatures as they were. The scent of borders was enough to draw him up short, his steps ceasing abruptly at what he assumed to be a respectful distance away from them. Wasting no further time he tipped his head back and sent up a howl wondering if any would brave the storm to answer or if they would (rightfully so, perhaps) keep to their shelter(s) and their own. Nevertheless, the masked Warpath waited patiently, ears perked and alert atop the finely crafted crown of his skull.

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